by Leanne Banks
“I was going to tell you that I’m going home to take that shower. I’ll take Fletch with me.”
Relief rushed through her, followed by a pinch of disappointment she firmly ignored. “Oh,” she managed when the silence became awkward. “Well, good.” Following him to the door, she remembered her manners. “Thank you for picking me up at the hospital and fixing my car. I’ll rest easy knowing it’s taken care of. And speaking of rest,” she rattled on, “if I’m going to get some sleep, then I need to go to bed.”
Eli gave a muffled groan, turned around and lifted the inside of her wrist to his lips. It was such a romantic gesture that she was shocked speechless.
“Thank you, neighbor,“ he said, using her innocuous term, but wearing an expression that suggested he knew better. “The image of my friend, the courtesan, going to bed is just what I need right before I take a shower.”
It was almost as if he knew all about her secret fantasies. She had the odd thought he’d take her on the kitchen table if she agreed. Aroused and distressed, she stifled a moan and took back her trembling hand. “I’m not a courtesan, Eli,” Andie insisted. “I never have been and never will be. No man has ever even suggested that he saw me that way.”
Eli studied her. A flash of primitive masculine intent came and went across his face. “Then I’m glad to know I’m the first.”
* * *
Eli left another message on his brother Caleb’s answering machine and set the remote phone down next to him as he supervised Fletch’s bath.
“Did you talk to his tape player again?” Fletch asked, and sank a plastic boat under the water.
“It’s called an answering machine, but you’ve got the right idea,” Eli told him, suspecting again that Fletch was headed for gifted classes. He’d caught him reading by himself the other day, and Eli knew for a fact that no one had taught him.
“Why isn’t he ever at home?” Fletch asked.
Eli sighed. How could he explain his brother’s drive? How could he explain that it was sometimes easier to focus on a problem instead of on the people in your life? “He works in a lab, different than mine. And he works many, many hours.,”
“Does he ever sleep or play?”
“Not much.”
Fletch wrinkled his nose. “Sounds boring.”
Eli chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Do you think he’ll come to my party?” Fletch asked, his eyes hopeful.
“I’ll do my best to get him here,” he told him, thinking he might be forced to arrange for someone to capture Caleb and ship him to Cary by express mail. Eli glanced at his watch. “Time to get out.”
“Five more minutes.”
Eli shook his head. “You’ve already said that three times.”
“That’s only fifteen extra minutes,” Fletch wheedled.
Noting the fact that his son had just multiplied five times three and come up with the correct answer, Eli shook his head. “Not tonight. Come on. You’ve got to get a good night’s sleep,” he said, flipping the knob on the tub so the water would drain, then putting the still-resistant Fletch on the bathmat. “Mrs. Giordano said you were a little cranky on Thursday and Friday.”
Fletch poked out his bottom lip and lifted his arms for Eli to dry his sturdy body.
Eli smothered a grin. He wondered when kids lost “the lip.” It usually meant Fletch was in a bad mood, but Eli knew he’d probably miss it, which made him wonder what else he’d missed before Fletch had lived with him.
“I wasn’t cranky,” Fletch said, interrupting Eli’s thoughts.
“Mrs. Giordano seemed to think you were either bored or a little sleepy.” He remembered the housekeeper’s genuine concern.
“I wasn’t sleepy,” Fletch told him adamantly.
“Hmm, then maybe you were bored.” Eli gave Fletch’s head a quick rub with the towel. “Maybe you’d like to do something different every now and then instead of staying home with Mrs. G.”
Fletch glanced up at him warily. “What?”
“Mrs. G. says she heard about a great day camp that meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That’s just two days a—”
Fletch shook his head vehemently. “I don’t wanna go to day camp.” He stood up and started to walk out of the bathroom.
Eli thought he needed to reach a point where Fletch understood that Eli was trying to do what was best. He caught Fletch’s arm and turned him back around. “I want you to think about it. Maybe one of the neighborhood kids will go with you. You’ll be starting kindergarten in the fall, so it will help you get used to being in a structured environment.”
Fletch frowned. “What’s a structured envir—envir—”
“Environment,” Eli supplied. “It’s when there’s a teacher in charge and there are planned activities like painting and singing and whatever else kids do at da—” Eli saw Fletch’s eyes widen in alarm and caught himself just in time. Fletch went ballistic whenever he mentioned day care. “Like camp or school,” he said.
“It sounds like day care,” Fletch said, gazing at Eli as if he were the enemy.
“Well, it’s not. And I want you to think about just trying it,” Eli coaxed.
Fletch’s small chin jutted stubbornly. “I don’t wanna.”
Exasperated, Eli decided he was going to have to review that book about dealing with a strong-willed child. “Well, I might have to take you, anyway. You’re not even giving it a chance.”
Fletch stomped his foot. “I won’t go! You promised. You promised. You promised!”
Torn by the tears he saw forming in Fletch’s green eyes, Eli shook his head. “I promised we would wait a while. It’s been a while.”
Fletch sobbed and shook his head. “I won’t go. I’ll run away!”
Shocked by Fletch’s declaration, Eli felt a cold slice of fear run through his blood. “Fletcher Masters,” he said sternly, “I don’t ever want to hear that from you again. You’re too young to even think about running away.”
Tears ran down Fletch’s cheeks. “Don’t make me go,” he pleaded, then hiccuped and threw himself into Eli’s arms. “I’ll be better. Please don’t make me go.”
His heart splintering at Fletch’s violent reaction, Eli wondered what was the basis for this near-hysteria. Confused, he wrapped his arms around his sobbing son and shook his head. “Fletch, you don’t understand. Sending you to day camp isn’t punishment. Day camp is supposed to be fun.”
“I don’t wann—” Fletch began again in a wobbly voice.
Eli held him close. “I hear you. You don’t want to go. I won’t make you go to the day camp in June.” At the same time that Eli relented, he wondered if he should be holding firm. God, how he hated the guesswork in being a parent. He rarely had to “guess” in the lab. He hoped like hell Fletch would grow out of this stage soon.
Sighing, he hauled Fletch up in his arms and headed down the hall. “You need to get into your pajamas and then into bed.”
“Oh, Da-ad.”
“Don’t Da-ad me,” he said, and quickly helped Fletch get dressed. When Fletch was tucked beneath the covers, Eli gazed at his son, troubled by his earlier threat to run away. “It would make me very, very sad if you ran away, Fletch.”
Fletch looked ashamed. “Well, I probably wouldn’t ever run away,” he admitted. “And if I did, I probably wouldn’t run real far.”
Eli nodded thoughtfully. “Where do you think you would go?”
He could practically see the wheels turn as Fletch considered the possibilities. He pictured Fletch dodging cars on a busy highway, or worse, lost on a street where some twisted abductor would take advantage of him. Eli’s stomach turned at the images.
“I’d run to Andie’s,” Fletch finally said. “She likes me.”
Relief surged through him. He laughed and shook his head. The world seemed to return to its proper orbit. He kissed his son on the cheek and Fletch kissed him back.
“Why are you laughing?” Fletch asked with a quizzical expression on his face just
before he yawned.
Eli smothered a grin and gently chucked Fletch’s chin for emphasis. “If you run away to Andie’s, then I’m running with you.”
* * *
Eli prowled restlessly around his downstairs study after providing Fletch with a drink of water, allowing a trip to the bathroom and turning on a night-light. Mrs. Giordano spent most Sunday nights with her daughter in Rocky Mount. Eli usually appreciated the quiet, but not tonight. Tonight he was stuck with himself, and Eli wasn’t much enjoying his own company.
Too many things filled his mind. He tasted the isolation of being a single father without all the answers. Fletch’s continued resistance to going to day camp disturbed him. Eli wished he could remember what it was like to be five and scared and unable to fully express yourself.
Plowing his hand through his hair, he prowled some more. In trying to provide a sense of family for Fletch, Eli realized he’d neglected his relationship with his own brothers during the past few years. After his parents’ death six years ago, he and his brothers had grown apart. Why had he let that happen? he wondered. He didn’t like the answers that raced swiftly to his mind.
As the oldest, he should have been the one to keep in touch and get everyone together, although, heaven help him, he’d been known to grab Thanksgiving dinner at a burger joint. His gut twisting with regret, Eli swore under his breath. He’d been too busy screwing up his own life, getting Gail, his ex-wife, pregnant, failing at marriage, then burying himself in his work when he couldn’t be the kind of father to Fletch that he wanted to be.
His thoughts filled him with dissatisfaction, and Eli was damn sick of not being satisfied with himself.
Drumming his fingers on the windowsill, he pushed aside the heavy drapery, and glanced toward Andie’s driveway with narrowed eyes. Her car was gone, so she was with her kids at the hospital. She cared for sick children while the rest of the world slept. That impressed him. Despite all her warmth and easy friendliness, in her own way, she was a night warrior.
She was an intriguing combination, and he wasn’t easily intrigued. She could protest her similarities to a courtesan till the end of time, but Eli had seen a flicker of womanly want and knowledge in her eyes. Maybe that was why he’d asked her to join him in the shower.
She’d thought he was kidding. He hadn’t been.
He touched his jaw where Andie had earlier that day. Her hand had been gentle, and her lips had been moist. His blood had run hot, and his body had been aroused. Something, some crazy something, whispered that he would find satisfaction in her. In the sound of her laughter, in a little teasing conversation, in the warmth and eagerness of her body. It was all too easy to imagine how her skin would feel, how her mouth and breasts would taste. Easy to imagine seeing her eyes darken with pleasure and hearing her sigh. It was all too easy to imagine pressing her silken thighs apart and thrusting inside her, inch by incredible inch.
His body betrayed the force of his need, and his arousal throbbed insistently against the front of his jeans. Eli swore at the masculine ache. There would be no satisfaction tonight. Dropping the drapery, he faced the comfortless room and long, comfortless night.
The cynical part of his brain warned him off her. He could do nothing right when it came to the fairer sex. He was a scientist. He didn’t believe in luck. Except with women, and his luck with women was rotten.
But his body still throbbed and that persistent whisper that he would find satisfaction in Andie started up again. In the back of his mind, a song played. He’d never identified with Mick Jagger more. Eli felt the driving beat and heard the grind of an electric guitar. He flicked out the light. Under his breath, he muttered about not getting any satisfaction.
Chapter Five
Andie was just about to push Eli’s doorbell when the heavy door opened. A brawny man, a few years younger than Eli, with blond hair that just touched his shoulders and trademark Masters green eyes, stared down at her. At her height, it felt as if he stared way down at her.
“You’re one of the brothers,” she concluded aloud, then added, “or uncles. I’m—”
“The next-door neighbor, Andie Reynolds.” He gave her a friendly once-over, clasped her hand and shook it. “I’m Ash, Eli’s youngest brother. I’m the average one,” he told her as if it were his greatest achievement. “Come in.”
She could have begged to differ on the rather obvious issue of his height, but Andie just nodded and followed him into the house. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Inside, she heard the war whoops of ten little Indians, one of whom was distinguished by pigtails and a purple tutu. The children chased each other from room to room.
“Slow down,” she heard Eli call to no avail. He glanced up as Andie rounded the corner. His gaze met hers, and Andie felt the nitroglycerin shake-up in her stomach again.
“Thank God you’re here,” he said, moving toward her. “Do you mind driving a few of these little banshees in your car? I borrowed a van from a guy at work, but I hadn’t expected all the kids to show.” His brow furrowed in confusion. “Especially after a couple of the fathers asked me how I selected the participants in my studies.”
Andie groaned. She could imagine who had asked the questions. Some of the neighbors still didn’t understand Eli’s research. “It’s Chuck E. Cheese’s,” she explained. “The kids love it. They wouldn’t miss it.”
Ash came up beside her. “The in place for kids?”
“Something like that.”
“Fletch, I said slow down,” Eli yelled. This time, twenty feet slowed to a fast trot. “Ninety minutes,” he muttered. “I can do anything for ninety minutes.”
Andie bit back a grin. “Did you hold on to that wine?”
Eli arched a dark eyebrow, and his eyes glittered with sensual threat. “I’m going to need a lot more than wine tonight.” He jerked his head in the direction of the den. “You want to get Caleb into your car, Ash.”
His brother nodded. “Consider it done.”
“He seems nice,” Andie said when Ash had left.
Eli nodded and told the kids to line up at the door. “Yeah. He’s a good guy. He’s the normal one.”
Before she could ask what he meant by that, Ash reappeared with another man in tow. Wire-rimmed glasses framed his eyes, his dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and, based on the concentrated way he was staring at a scrap of paper and murmuring, he was clearly somewhere other than this house.
Eli gave a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll probably have to do this again, later. Caleb,” he said, then raised his voice slightly. “Caleb.”
Caleb jerked his head up and stared at Eli.
“This is my neighbor, Andie Reynolds.”
Andie felt the man’s piercing, assessing gaze.
“Andie, this is my middle brother, Caleb. He works in a lab where he’s researching a drug for Alzheimer’s. I think it’s fair to say that Caleb is married to his job,” Eli added dryly.
Caleb extended his hand formally. It reminded her just a bit of when she’d first met Eli. But where Eli emanated an intense masculine energy and intelligence, Caleb reflected an impatient preoccupation with more important matters. “Hello,” he said quietly.
“Hi,” Andie returned. “I’m glad to meet—”
“Excuse me just a moment,” Caleb said with the barest hint of apology, and pulled a pencil from behind his ear to scribble something on the piece of paper.
At a loss, she glanced at Eli, who was watching Caleb with concerned eyes. He gazed at Andie and urged her toward the front door. “Don’t take it personally. At least he said hello and shook your hand. Caleb isn’t comfortable outside the lab. I hope it’s just a stage. I went through one like it a few years ago. He’s almost totally absorbed by his work. It’s a miracle he showed up today. I must have left a dozen messages on his answering machine.” He gave a wry grin and shook his head. “There I go again. Telling you my life story when you don’t want to hear it.”
Andie opened h
er mouth to protest, but Eli turned to the kids. “Okay, I need four of you to ride with Miss Reynolds.”
Jennifer immediately stepped forward. “She’s not Miss Reynolds. She’s Andie.”
Eli sighed, then hooked his hand around Andie’s waist and whispered, “Whatever happened to respecting your elders?”
She laughed, unable to put her finger on just one thing that caused the ripples of pleasure racing through her. The sensation of his mouth at her ear was delicious, his dismay comical, and Andie got a crazy kick out of the fact that he’d confided his revealing comment to her. “I think it went out when the new math came in.”
“Save me,” Eli muttered, squeezing her waist, then he slipped away to a stop a sword finger fight that was getting out of hand. Within minutes, Andie and Eli managed to divide the children into two groups and get them securely strapped into their seats.
Despite the children’s excited chatter on the way to the restaurant, Andie found her mind wandering to Eli’s comments about his brother, Caleb. I hope it’s just a stage. I went through one like it a few years ago. Although she could imagine Eli being absorbed by his work, it was hard for her to picture him so submerged in it that he never came out.
She wondered if he’d gone through that kind of stage because of his divorce. He must have been incredibly lonely and unhappy. Her heart twisted at the thought. She remembered her own dark period last summer after her breakup with Paul. She’d logged in extra hours at work, but the hospital imposed stiff restrictions on overtime. She’d tried to mend her wounds in private by staying at home, but Samantha hadn’t let her.
Andie sensed there’d been no best friend to pull Eli back into the land of the living. His ex-wife’s death had obviously turned his and Fletch’s world upside down. Deep inside her, the part she’d kept well protected since last year ached at the thought of Eli’s aloneness. He shouldn’t be alone. Sure, he was strong, confident, obscenely intelligent. But Andie saw holes in his life, holes a woman could fill.